Their lips part once again and Kurt inhales, breath shaky and pulse fluttering wildly beneath his skin. Blaine's hands, soft and strong, fall from his face.

"I don't know why I waited so long to do that," Blaine admits.

"I don't know either," Kurt says. "I'm glad you did, though."

Blaine smiles. He sits back down in his chair and readjusts his tie; Kurt may have gone a little overboard with the grasping and the clutching and silently begging for more kisses. Pavarotti's casket still sits half-bedazzled on the table. Blaine's words continue to echo in the empty room. 'I've been looking for you forever.'

Finally, Kurt thinks. Blind as a bat, that one.

"We have-" Blaine pauses to clear his throat. "We have Warblers rehearsal in half an hour."

"I should…finish decorating the casket," Kurt nods to the glue on the table.

"Right," Blaine says, standing on not so stable knees. "I'll see you in half an hour then."

He makes to turn around but Kurt's voice catches him before he can take a step.

"Are we – I mean, are you and I-"

Blaine looks terrified and definitely nervous. But Kurt notices Blaine's gaze keeps darting between Kurt's eyes and his lips. It looks like…maybe he wants to kiss Kurt again.

And he looks so very, very hopeful.

"Do you think we're-" Kurt tries to say again.

"I want to be your boyfriend," Blaine says bluntly. He looks instantly shocked at himself for being so forward. He smacks his forehead and it sounds like he groans in frustration. "I mean if you want to, we can…do that. Be that. Boyfriends, I mean. But only if that's what you want. If not, that's okay too."

Kurt realizes he resembles a deer caught in a set of headlights. He shakes himself out of his stupor but his smile is warm, bright like sunshine.

"I'd love to be your boyfriend," he finally says.

"Y – really? You're sure?"

"In case you haven't noticed, even after our talk in the coffee shop on Valentine's Day, I've kind of been pining after you for a while now."

"Well, I mean I know you – but I was such an idiot and I didn't know if you'd even want me after all this time."

"…You honestly thought I wouldn't want you? Are you being willfully dense?"

"Uh…no. I just know you maybe kinda sort of might have liked me a while ago, but I thought I might have been too late. I thought you might've moved on or something."

"Blaine," Kurt says seriously, Pavarotti's half-decorated casket entirely forgotten as he looks up at Blaine, taking hold of both his hands. "I can safely say you were worth waiting for."

He watches Blaine blush an adorable shade of pink, one he's honestly never seen before.

"I'll say it again. I would love to be your boyfriend."

Blaine's smile just then seems to light up the entire room. He strokes Kurt's knuckles with his slightly calloused thumbs. They don't say anything at all for a long moment. They simply stare at one another, two pairs of teenage eyes drinking in the other.

"But I have to ask…why Blackbird?"

"…What?" Blaine wonders after a split second.

"You said before that Blackbird was the moment. Your moment. Why Blackbird?"

The thing is, Blaine has thought long and hard about this particular issue. He knows the answer. It's not like he just decided to up and kiss Kurt because he sang a song to mourn a dead bird. It's actually a little bit more complex than that. He just didn't expect to be explaining his reasoning so soon into this…relationship.

But there's nothing for it now. He releases Kurt's hands so one of his own can scratch nervously at his neck.

"I've never – never seen anyone sing something with so much heart before," Blaine begins to explain. "I've never seen someone open up like that. I mean, it was a bird. An important bird, no doubt," he says when he sees Kurt's eyes narrow. "But it was a bird that was forced upon you, a responsibility more than a pet. But you loved Pavarotti. You loved him more than just as a responsibility or a pet; you loved him as a friend. And you had no problem, no reservations about standing up in front of a group of teenage boys and singing that song and you cried but you didn't care because you just…you didn't. You don't. You love what you love, you are who you are and you make no apologies for that. You never have. And I started to think that maybe – maybe I wasn't the one that needed to teach you anything about courage. Maybe that was something you needed to teach me. And you did. So I realized how…stupid I've been. How blind I've been to everything about you. When you sang, I saw – I noticed…how beautiful you are. Inside and out."

The last bit of Blaine's breath leaves him in a rush. At some point, his gaze had dropped to the floor. He looks back up to see Kurt's expression. It resembles the same expression Kurt had on his face before they'd kissed a few minutes ago; shock and hope.

But then the corners of Kurt's lips quirk up into a smile.

"Even if you didn't teach me courage, you gave me strength," Kurt says softly.

Blaine's feet move of their own accord, taking one tiny step to stand directly in front of where Kurt sits in his chair. His hand reaches out and Blaine thinks his hand seems more sure of the action than his mind is but his fingers curl around Kurt's cheek, thumb ghosting over soft, flawless skin.

"If you'll help me clean up, we can walk to rehearsal together," Kurt says after a long moment, the smile still on his lips.

"Okay," Blaine smiles in return.

Blaine's hand drops and they turn their attention to the gem covered table. As they pick up bits and pieces, they stand close, their shoulders brushing every few seconds. Occasionally their eyes seek out one another's, but they blush and turn away, returning to their task. When the glue and every small stone are placed back into the carrier, Kurt slips the tiny casket into his bag, hoisting it onto his shoulder. Blaine picks up the carrier and they head toward the door.

"Every time I walk down this hallway, I think of the first day we met," Kurt says softly as they leave the room.

"It's a shortcut," Blaine nods, the backs of their hands swaying so closely by their sides.

"Are we running late?" Kurt asks with a coy sort of grin.

"Maybe. We should take the shortcut. Just in case."

So Blaine extends his hand, fingers outstretched. Kurt smiles shyly and their hands clasp, fitted so perfectly, so sure.

They run.

They have a duet to rehearse, after all.

END.